


Forbidden Knowledge

by ricecrispbees



Series: (Don't Starve) S.I.C.T. universe [2]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Autistic Character, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Flashbacks, M/M, abhorrently fluffy Maxwil moments because I have nil shame, kind of waiting for the hamlet dlc to release before writing a whole bunch for this fyi, past death mention, past death mentions, some nsfw elements here and there but no explicit banging, willow and wilson are s u f f e r i n g pls save them, world reset
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2018-10-12 22:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10500522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricecrispbees/pseuds/ricecrispbees
Summary: “You’re right.” Wilson said. “Still, there are times when it crosses my mind. If only we had a way of knowing such things.”Ah, yes. If only.~~~A freak accident causes Wilson's world to reset and for himself and all his friends to die. In the midst of trying to rebuild their old camp, Wilson and Maxwell begin to remember Wilson's time on the shadow throne, and it strains the relationship between themselves and everyone else; Wigfrid finds a mysterious portal; Willow tries to bargain with the darkness to come back to her friends.





	1. Chapter 1- Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> So anyone who read this when it first came out knows that the summary and tags were slightly different beforehand. That's because I've been sitting on this story for a while & I've decided to change some things about it in order to seem more interesting & to fit the updated lore of the story. Anyway, I hope this story is enjoyable in the end regardless<3

No one could even begin to think of what could have possibly caused such a horrible accident. Much less could they start to place the blame on any one person. All Wilson knew was that one second it was a lovely spring day, and the next all was lost to a sea of pitch darkness.

Spring was usually a very peaceful time for Wilson, and that was certainly true for this one in particular. The flowers were blooming, the birds were chirping, and the bees were buzzing loudly as they produced sufficient amounts of honey for himself and his friends to eat. The farms would begin producing food for them and the animals were too hostile from mating to be hunted, so there wasn’t as much work to be done around this time of year, at least not for the first half of the season. This was exactly where they were in the year now, and it was a welcome break from the harsh winter they’d endured just weeks before. 

The sun was shining brightly down on him and it felt unusually warm against his skin as he looked down on the chessboard in front of him, plotting his next move. Maxwell sat on the other end of the board, watching him intently. To the right of them in the garden by the beehives was where Wigfrid and Wes kept Wendy and Webber entertained. The children were very energetic, and so the two adults were very busy trying to keep them out of trouble. Woodie was off gathering wood somewhere, armed with a pile of sticks to ward off any possible werebeaver episodes. Wolfgang was with him, partially to help out and partially to help defend Woodie in case they were to accidentally piss off a treeguard.

Wilson tried to concentrate on the game in front of him, but his mind just would not allow it. His eyes flickered over to the board, then subtly up to Maxwell, then over to the garden where the children, Wes, and Wigfrid played. His mind wandered aimlessly and he found himself daydreaming, forgetting the chess game altogether eventually.

“Wilson.” Maxwell’s deep voice snapped the man out of his trail of thought. “What’s on your mind?”

Wilson flushed slightly. “Sorry about that.” The sound of his lover’s voice made his heart skip a beat even now, and he felt himself begin to smile. “It’s just hard to focus on such a nice day.”

“I’ll have to agree with you on that.” The other replied. “This world has become much more beautiful by the day since your sister became the shadow queen.”

Wilson winced. While it had been a full cycle of seasons since it had happened, the mention of Willow, his younger sister, becoming the ruler of shadows and therefore the land was still a bit of a touchy subject for him. “You’re right.”

“Ah. Did I hit a nerve?” Maxwell asked, leaning forward to rest his chin on one hand. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright.” The other replied, but didn’t pull his eyes away from the scene in the garden. Wes had made flower crowns for the two children, who laughed with delight as they tried to braid some flowers into Wigfrid’s hair. Normally, Wilson knew she would have gotten slightly upset with them since she wasn’t a very big fan of flowery things, but she must have known that Willow would have done the same thing to her, so she went with it. Even after all this time, she was still as in love with that person as ever, and Wilson couldn’t help but wonder how much longer her infatuation would last and if his sister still returned her feelings.

“I mean that, you know.” Maxwell said, trying to get Wilson’s attention.

“I know that.” The other said the words with ease, and they were true. “I still worry about her sometimes, you know? How do you think she is?”

“The fact that she hasn’t introduced any new giants or something else that would tear us limb for limb tells me that she’s still fairly sane after a year and that you, my dear, need to stop worrying so much.” The magician chuckled and leaned in slightly further with a flirtatious grin. Wilson shot him a sideways glance and returned the smile.

“Well, thank you for that.” The scientist shifted his body forward so that they faced one another once again. “That does ease my nerves a little bit.” 

“Good. Now, are we going to finish this game or not?” Maxwell’s eyes flickered back down to the board and then back up to Wilson.

“Yes, I think we should.” Wilson shifted his focus back to the board and willed himself to concentrate. After a few moments, he spotted a gap in Maxwell’s defenses and carefully moved a piece forward, hoping the other didn’t catch onto what he was doing. He didn’t.

“This brings me back to when we played our first chess game together.” Maxwell said after making his move. “Do you remember that?”

Wilson did, in fact, remember that. He couldn’t recall how many lives he and Maxwell had endured since then, but he did know that it had been at least three since he was first cast into this world with him. The scientist had absentmindedly carved a pawn-like figure out of a chunk of wood one day, and Maxwell suggested that he make more. Wilson had done so, and their first game was in early autumn, shortly after the leaves had begun to change color. The game was over fairly quickly, and Maxwell had won. They had an argument after that, Wilson recalled bitterly, and mused over how easy it had been for them to disagree since there was no love between them back then. 

“Yes.” He nodded. “You beat me in that game and in several after that. We argued so much back then.”

Maxwell laughed. “And over the most trivial things, too.”

Wilson couldn’t help but laugh as well. “I’m glad we’ve changed. I don’t think we would have been able to live as long as we have in this world had our disagreements continued.” He motioned out toward the farms and the garden. “How long has it been now? Eight, maybe even nine cycles of seasons?”

“We started here in the fall.” Max leaned back and recalled. “So by now it’s been eight and a half.”

“That’s probably our record thus far.” Wilson grinned. “Amazing.”

“Agreed.” Maxwell returned the smile, but his was a bit less soft. “Your move.”

Wilson looked down at the board. “Ah.” He skillfully moved a piece forward. “Check.”

“Blast.” Maxwell mumbled. “This weather must be getting to my head.”

“Mate.” Wilson took his opponent’s queen piece. “Not that I mind, of course. This is, what, the twelfth time I think I’ve won against you?”

“Versus the infinite amount of times I’ve beat you.” Maxwell reminded. “Still, impressive job.”

“Well, thank you.” Wilson smiled sweetly. “Should we play another round, or shall we take the rest of the day off? We don’t have to worry about gathering resources just yet, you know.”

“I think we should take some time off.” Maxwell looked over to where the children now engaged in play with Wes. “After all, Wolfgang and Woodie should be back soon, and it looks like the bee boxes are ready to harvest.”

“Excellent. We’ll bottle up some honey for later, make poultice with some more, and have honey ham for dinner.” The other leaned his elbows against the stone table in front of him and laughed. “I may come off a bit strong here, but this almost feels like all of us are a family now.”

“You’re not wrong there.” Wilson felt his lover’s hand rest itself on his upper back. “It’s quite nice.”

“Yeah…” The scientist smiled and placed his own hand on Maxwell’s arm. “I wouldn’t trade this for the world, you know.”

“Neither would I.” Came the quiet response from the magician, who was rather flustered from this contact. Wilson chuckled. Since that fateful night two winters ago where they held each other under the stars, Maxwell and Wilson had become much more close to one another, touching and flirting more and more frequently until it was difficult to believe they ever hated one another at all. Even after all this time, however, Maxwell was still a bit shy about touching, and to Wilson it was one of the most adorable things in the world.

“Oh! Wilson!” Their attention was caught by little Wendy, who came running over hand-in-hand with Webber and Wigfrid hot on their tail. Wes lagged behind them slightly. “Can you teach us how to play chess, too?” She asked, an excited smile on her face. Wilson was pleased by this sight, though not exactly surprised. One year ago, it would have been lucky to even get her to speak. Now here she was, smiling and laughing and playing like a normal girl her age would. It was a miraculous transformation, and he only had his baby sister to thank for it. Although she wasn’t with them for long, her loving nature seemed to have rubbed off on everybody, including little Wendy, and Wilson was grateful for it. It was nice to see her this happy all the time.

“Of course.” He smiled warmly at the girl. “Maxwell, could you give up your seat for her?”

“Certainly.” Maxwell moved and Wendy took his place across the chessboard from Wilson. 

“Okay, so this is how you set the board up…” Wilson took the pieces from Maxwell’s side that had been captured during their game and set his side of the board back to default. “You try.”

Wendy hesitated for a moment, processing his actions before copying them. “Like this?”

“Exactly like that.” Wilson praised, and she blushed with pride. “Now, see this piece right here? This is a pawn. It can only move forward once or backward once, per turn.” Wendy nodded in understanding as he explained the rest of the rules and what each piece did when. They were about halfway through a practice match when Wolfgang and Woodie returned, inventories piled with wood, pinecones, and birchnut seeds. 

“Well, now, what have we here?” Woodie leaned up against the side of a tree, casually watching the game with interest.

“I’m teaching her how to play,” Wilson didn’t take his eyes off the board. “And she’s doing quite well.”

Wendy blushed again. 

“If only you had that sort of concentration when we played.” Maxwell remarked good-naturedly. “Are you really that afraid of being beaten by a child?”

“Oh, shut it.” Wilson scolded lightly and quickly winked at him. 

‘Oh,’ Maxwell realized. ‘He’s losing  _ on purpose _ .’ He dared not to say anything and ruin Wendy’s pride.

The game only lasted a few more minutes before Wendy ‘beat’ him proudly. Everyone smiled and congratulated her, and Webber asked her to teach him how to play sometime. She said yes, and Wilson couldn’t help but muse over what a lovely thing child friendships were.

“So, Woodie, what did you guys bring with ya?” Wigfrid asked. 

“Hopefully enough pine cones and birchnut to restore a small forest should any fires take down any of our trees this summer.” Woodie replied. “Where do y’all want me to put these?” 

“Pick one of the chests over there.” Wilson pointed to the menagerie of chests up against the stone wall of the base. “And how much wood?”

“Don’t worry. We’ll have enough to last us a few weeks.” Woodie grinned and opened up a chest. “I had to eat every last twig that I brought with me to keep from changin’.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t, or else Wes would have passed out.” Wigfrid whispered and punched him on the shoulder lightly. “You know how much he worries about you when you’re out without him.”

“I know.” The Canadian replied just as softly. “That’s why I bring out so many twigs, so he don’t have to.”

“He’ll continue to do it anyway, though.” The redhead woman replied, opening the chest next to him. “He loves you, so he’ll worry about you.”

“Yeah, yeah, just like you worry about your wife.” Woodie teased. “I know. That’s why we’ve gotta protect ourselves, you know, be strong so they see that they’ve got no reason to be so fretful.”

“Yeah.” Wigfrid sighed, her lost love now on her mind. “I know.”

Woodie placed a hand on her arm sympathetically. “One day you’ll see her again. I know it.” 

“I long for that day.” Wigfrid whispered solemnly. “I love her so much.” 

“We all do.” Woodie turned over a log in his hand before depositing it into the chest. “Hey, would you mind checking the weapons stash for me? I’m a bit concerned about us getting attacked by a dragonfly this summer.”

“I see.” Wigfrid turned her attention to the open chest and began to rummage through it. “We’ve got enough gunpowder to blow up the world, so that’s covered. Three well-used tentacle spikes that we may have to replace soon, some armour...yeah, I think we’re good.” She closed the chest, dusting a fair amount of gunpowder off of her hands. 

“That’s good.” Woodie closed his chest as well. “And hey...if it makes you feel any better, she’s still here, technically.” He gave her a small smile. “Don’t be so down. It’ll upset her, too, and the children. They still haven’t fully recovered from that loss.”

“None of us have.” Wigfrid sighed again and untied her hair. “Good god! How many flowers did they put in there?” 

“Enough for me to have a new garland after my next werebeaver attack, and then some!” Woodie laughed heartily. “It’s a nice look on you, though, not gonna lie.” 

“Thanks.” Wigfrid shook out her hair and flowers came tumbling out of the massive red curls. “We’ll be lucky if the bees have anything else to get pollen from this year. Lord!” She groaned, trying unsuccessfully to brush out what remained of the plants in her hair.

Woodie laughed and got up to go greet Wes, leaving the woman alone by the wall. Wilson meanwhile was prepping to gather honey from the beehives.

“Max, did you hear something?” He asked as he put the beekeeper hat on.

“Can’t say I did.” The magician replied, smoking a cigar and slowly flipping through the Codex Umbra. “Must be your bees.”

“Probab- _ bee _ .” Wilson joked, earning a sharp punch on the shoulder from the other. “Ow! That _ hurt _ .”

“And that was terrible.” 

“I know, that’s why I said it.” He smirked up at Maxwell.

“Whatever. Bad jokes and all, I still love you.” Wilson lifted the net of the bee hat and the two shared a quick kiss before the smaller went off to gather some honey.

“Need some help?” Wigfrid offered, grabbing a spare beekeeper hat. 

“Yeah, you can help me bottle this stuff up once we collect this.” Wilson carefully opened the beehive and the two removed some honey, receiving minimal stings thanks to their protective gear. However, “minimal” does not necessarily mean “none”.

“Yow! Looks like we’ll have to use some of this as honey poultice for ourselves!” Wilson hisses, prying an angry bee off an exposed part of his arm. 

“Yeah.” Wigfrid replied through clenched teeth. “How much do we plan to use?”

“Maybe half for storage, half for medicine.” The scientist replied. “Oh, and we’re using some for honey ham tonight, so I guess we’ll cut back the amount we use for medicine to...oh, I’d say 35%.”

“Good enough for me.” The redhead licked her lips. “Hopefully none of the bees will follow us back, since some of those flowers the kids braided into my hair have yet to come out.”

“You’ll be fine.” Wilson reassured and they continued gathering honey in silence. They had a sizable amount by the end and proceeded to make enough honey poultice to treat them all after a giants battle with some. The rest was to go in the icebox for storage. The iceboxes were in between the three crockpots they had now, and those were located fairly close to the chests and the farms, so it would be easy to gather store everything. 

“Wigfrid, take this honey and place it in the box, will you?” Wilson requested as he finished bottling up the last of the honey. 

“Sure.” She took the honey and said. “Wendy, Webber, come over and help me with dinner!” 

“Wow. It’s certainly gotten hot.” Wilson remarked, fanning himself with one hand. Woodie and Wes were sitting nearby and nodded in agreement.

“It’ll get cooler later tonight.” Maxwell replied, taking off his coat. “Fortunately. You know, I don’t think it’s supposed to get this hot so early in the spring.”

“Maybe not.” Wolfgang said, fanning himself as well. “Feel like summer.”

“Yeah.” Wilson said. Wigfrid opened the icebox to put the honey in, crouched down, and paused.

“Do you guys smell something?” She asked, sniffing the air a few times. The door to the icebox hung wide open.

“Huh. Yeah, I think I do.” Wendy said. “Maybe something went bad in here.”

“No, that can’t be it. This smells like something’s...burning.” Wigfrid shrugged. “Wes, go check the farms. Maybe something caught fire on accident.” With that, she took a jar of honey, stuck it into the icebox, and screamed. “Mother of--!” 

That was all Wilson remembered before something caught fire, and the next thing he knew he blacked out completely.

 

+++

 

“My, my.”

Somewhere in a dark, dark chasm, there was a woman, and she had watched the whole thing. Her thick black hair hung over her shoulder in a braid, which she had tied earlier out of boredom when she saw the children were out playing. Normally, however, she wore it back in pigtails. Her body was hugged tightly by a black dress with a white collar and a pretty pink ribbon tied in a bow around her throat. Her slate grey eyes, once filled with light and energy, were now dull and solemn thanks to the shadows. Her skin was paler than before, and she was thinner from all the time she’d spent on the nightmare throne. Her name was Willow Petunia Higgsbury, and she was more than a little baffled by what she’d just seen.

“I wonder what could have caused such a marvelous conflagration.” Her eyes were fixed on a projection of the scene in front of her, and while she was upset about the effects of said fire, she was quite pleased by its beauty. However, all good things had to come to an end.

She clapped her hands. “Shadows.” She called, and her voice echoed throughout the chamber. There was no response, but she knew They were listening to her. “Reset the world for them. Oh, and please, for the love of god, make sure they all wake up there. Even the dead librarian; I’m sure the children would love to see her there.”

She snapped her fingers, and the projection of Wilson’s old world was gone. Willow sighed and leaned back on the throne, grief beginning to sink in as she began to register that she’d just seen her brother die. At least now she could control what the world would look like when he came back. With her on the throne, he would never die. That much she knew for sure, and she planned to live up to that. He’d already been through so much. 

She remembered how horrified she’d been to see his face after ten long years, and saw how much this world had aged him. His hair was messier than she’d remembered, his face dirty and signs of a beard were beginning to show. That was not the Wilson she knew, and it scared her. After seeing how rustic this new world was, she wondered how he’d managed to survive for so long since he was prone to sensory overloads. They happened mostly when he wore dirty clothing, got caught in bad weather, or at night when his nyctophobia twisted his perception of the world around him. She hid these feelings of shock and concern from him, however, and from what she’d seen, she had done a fairly good job of it. Now, although she refused to coddle him now that she was in this position of power, she was a bit hesitant to do anything that would hurt him or his friends now that she knew just what he’d been through.

Suddenly Willow became aware of a soft  _ whoosh _ sound, followed by the click-clack of heels against the cold stone floor below her. She groaned internally. ‘Not this again.’

“You’ve come early.” She commented idly, repressing her disgust.

“So, you still care about them after all this time.” Willow couldn’t see them, but she knew who they were. This wasn’t their first visit, and definitely would not be the last.

“Of course I do. My brother’s there, and so are his friends. What, pray tell, makes you think I’d ever stop caring for them?”

“Maybe the fact that there’s so much distance between you two.” The clicking got closer, and then stopped. Willow knew that they was behind her now.

“I’ll never stop loving him. Not after all he did for me in the past. You of all people should know that.” She replied, not moving.

“And what about the girl, Wigfrid?”

“Still love her the same as ever.” Willow replied firmly. “Why do you care?”

“Well, because you’ll never get to see her again, so what’s the point?” She felt a cold, cold hand touch her on the shoulder, and she flinched. “Maybe try spending your love on someone who cares. Someone you can actually see face-to-face.”

“I’d never love you, and besides, love is not something to be  _ spent _ .” Willow spat the word like it was poison.

“You fool. It’s not like you have a choice.” The entity said, and Willow could tell that they were becoming agitated. She laughed at this.

“Really. Says _who_? I love Winnie with all my heart, and you know that will never, ever change.” She smiled proudly. There was a pause.

“Whatever.” The entity replied, and the queen knew she’d won this time. Both of them were silent, and Willow tried not to let her real emotions show.

Words could not properly articulate how much she loathed them. Those damn shadows were the absolute worst, trying to tempt and mock her even though she was bound to the throne and could therefore do pretty much whatever she wanted. However, she refused to indulge herself with her new powers, and the shadows  _ loved _ to take advantage of that.

Willow drummed her nails against the arm of the chair, and it echoed throughout the room.

“One more thing.” She said boldly. “I hate your accent, you know. Despise it.”

The one behind her laughed wickedly. “Too bad. Looks like you’re stuck down here with me, so you might as well get used to it.”

Willow laughed too, but her laugh was more bitter and forced. “I guess you’re right.” She responded. On the inside, she felt her heart sink into despair as she remembered they were right. She  _ was _ stuck here, possibly forever, doomed to never see her loved ones face-to-face again. This truly was going to be a long ride, and it was only going to get worse with _ her _ still around.

Silently, as she sat there with Charlie’s hand on her shoulder, she begged for a swift and painless death.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2- World Reset Drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilson's getting stressed from overthinking the cause of the reset. Wigfrid's got issues, too. Someone please come and hug them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse any mistakes. This has been in my drafts for a few days now and I didn't properly check for errors of any kind.

Wilson was unsure of how long he was out for. All he remembered was a split second of darkness before he groggily came to in a land where he’d never been before. He blinked, trying to regain his senses and sat up to survey his surroundings. He saw that he was beneath a florid postern and that they were surrounded by birchnut trees with warmly colored leaves. It was fall. It wasn't fall earlier. Oh no. 

He shot to his feet when the realization that he wasn’t at the base sunk in. “What the hell!” 

Wilson noticed that the others laid around on the ground around him, and they began to wake up as well.

“Hm?” Wigfrid was the first one to come to. “Wilson? Hey, Wilson. Are you alright?” She was ignored, however, as the scientist began to pace, locking and unlocking his fingers rhythmically. It was one of the many ways he’d been known to stim when he was upset.

“What in god’s name just happened? One second, we were enjoying a nice spring day. The next--BOOM! Everything’s gone! How does that make any sense?!”

“Wilson Percival Higgsbury! Calm yourself  _ this instant _ !” The redheaded woman grabbed him by the shoulders and ordered. Wilson froze, startled, and stopped pacing, but continued to fidget slightly with his fingers. “Okay. So the world was reset. Big deal. We need to think of a plan if we’re going to survive. What are we going to do about it?”

“First, you all are going to tell me exactly what just happened and how long I’ve been out for.” Somebody said. Everyone froze. They knew that voice, but it had been quite some time since they’d heard it. They turned around and saw her standing some distance from the group. Wilson’s jaw dropped.

“Wickerbottom?” Wendy was the first to speak. She and Webber exchanged glances and grinned, running to the woman and throwing their arms around her in a hug. The old woman seemed pleasantly surprised by this.

“Well, hello, children.” She smiled, adjusting her glasses.

“You’re back!” Wendy cheered. Wickerbottom looked more startled now. 

“You’ve got quite the positive disposition, young lady.” She said, then looked up at the adults. “You _ must  _ tell me what you did to her while I was out.”

“There’s quite a bit we got to tell ya.” Woodie sighed. “Lots happened between...well. Let’s not focus on that now.” 

Wilson nodded in agreement, still more than a bit surprised.”Until then, let’s split up and meet back here at dusk. We’ll cover more ground that way. Grab whatever you can: flint, flowers, wood, sticks, anything. If you run into anything dangerous, then for God’s sake, try not to die.”

“Aye.” Wigfrid nodded, drawing her spear. “I’ll try to gather some food for us. Who’s coming with me?”

“I will.” Wolfgang flexed his muscles. “Mighty Wolfgang help catch food for him and friends.”

“Excellent. I’ll go with Maxwell. Woodie, Webber, and Wes can go together. Wickerbottom and Wendy can be a group as well.” Wilson said. Wickerbottom looked a bit surprised with this arrangement and Wilson then remembered sheepishly that she did not yet know about their relationship. 

Yes, he thought to himself, there really  _ was _ a lot for them to fill her in on. As they all split up in their respective directions, he wondered exactly where they were going to begin.

He tried to casually start conversation with Maxwell to ease his tension. It had been a while since he’d experienced a reset, and it was starting to take a toll on his nerves.

“This is weird.” He said, picking up some flint. “I wonder how the others are doing.”

“Hopefully they’re doing as good or better as we are.” The other replied, somewhat indifferently.

“I hope so too.” Wilson replied, and the silence that followed allowed unwanted thoughts to enter his head again.

‘What in god’s name happened to the camp that made it kill us like that?’ He thought. The entire time, Wilson tried to piece together the fragmented memories he had of before everything went to hell and the place reset, but nothing was making sense. He didn’t vocalize his issues, however, and while it saved him a bit of chewing-out from Maxwell about being so anxious about everything, it only made him feel worse. It was a habit of his that he really should’ve tried to break sooner.

They grabbed whatever they could and returned to the designated meeting area just as dusk fell.

“Alright, who’s got what?” Wigfrid asked. Everyone emptied their inventories onto the ground. In all, they had 48 wood logs, 27 stones, 16 flint, 10 gold, 29 grass, and 18 twigs. One of the groups must have found a rocky area. Hopefully there weren’t any tallbirds following them back.

“Impressive job, everyone.” Wilson praised. “Wigfrid. Wolfgang. How are we on food?”

“Found just enough berries, carrots, seeds, and rabbits to sustain us until tomorrow, at least.” Wigfrid proudly showed off her display of food, as did Wolfgang.

“Perfect. If we roast all of these, we’ll eat for two days. Nice job.” Wilson smiled, and the hunters blushed proudly. 

“Shall we set up a campfire here?” Wickerbottom asked. “There’s a savannah just to the northeast of here with beefalo, and this spot is perfect for us since it’s close but still far enough away that once the beefalo are in heat we’re at significantly lower risk of having a run-in with one.”

“Let’s do exactly that.” Wigfrid smiled and grabbed wood, grass, and stones from the pile. “I’ll get to work on it. We’ve got the materials to build a science machine, so we should do that as well.”

“Probably.” Wilson found himself growing quite excited at the idea of science as he picked up the gold, wood, and stone from the ground. Hopefully it would ease his troubled mind of the stress and tension that came with a world reset, and besides, he hadn’t built one of those in a while. It would be a good thing to do again. “Is here good?” He chose a spot to the left and up from where Wigfrid stood with her materials and she nodded. He eagerly began to assemble the machine, his hands working swiftly and efficiently, and within minutes they had their science machine.

“Whew!” He stood up and wiped sweat from his brow. He looked over and saw that the campfire had been built and that Wigfrid had placed four logs around it for sitting like she had at the old base. “Looks good, Wigfrid.”

“Thank you.” The redhead gave an exaggerated curtsy and they laughed. “Wolfgang, come help me cook this stuff, will ya?”

Wolfgang nodded and the two brought out their food, preparing it systematically over the fire. Wilson sat back against a nearby birch tree. He saw Wendy and Webber begging Wickerbottom to read to them.

“Not now, children. Maybe after dinner.” She replied.

“Aww.” Webber and Wendy were disappointed by this, but dared not argue. It would be horribly rude of them. Not too far off from him, Maxwell lit a cigar under a tree and began smoking.

“I see you never broke that nasty habit.” Wickerbottom commented. Maxwell chuckled.

“Did you figure that out yourself?” He replied, equally as curt.

“Will you two cease fighting!” Wigfrid groaned. “Even after all this time, the two of you cannot seem to get along. Ridiculous.” She grumbled.

“Apologies. I should not have been so rude to you.” The old woman said.

“Apology accepted.” Maxwell replied, continuing to smoke anyway because he could give a mere fraction of a shit to what anyone thought at that point.

“By the way…” Wickerbottom thought for a moment. “Wasn’t there another person here? She was a woman, right? Ah, now I remember. Wilson, whatever happened to your charming little sister?”

The scientist’s heart sunk into his stomach at the mention of her. He should have known she would ask about this eventually. Wigfrid suddenly looked visibly uncomfortable, Webber and Wendy’s faces fell, and Maxwell audibly choked on the cigar.

“Oh dear.” The old woman frowned. “I suppose I hit a nerve?” 

“It’s a long story.”  Wilson sat up and made his way over to the fire. “Dinner’s ready now, so I suppose I can tell you what happened.”

Thus, Wilson sat down and held back tears as he relayed what happened to Willow and Charlie to the old woman, who was shocked and horrified.

“Oh my. That sounds terrible.” The old woman removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh, Wigfrid. Wilson. All of you. I am so, so sorry.”

“Charlie’s not here anymore, so at least we don’t have to deal with her.” Maxwell sighed and ate some berries. “Sadly I doubt we’ll have a way of getting to Willow anytime soon.”

“Yeah.” Wigfrid turned her head away to hide her tears. Wickerbottom sighed.

“A shame, too. Such a pretty girl, and kind, too. She really looked a lot like you, Wilson, down to the smallest details.” The old woman said, taking a bite of morsel. “I guarantee that if the two of you were the same sex, no one would be able to tell the difference.”

“That was actually one of our jokes as children.” Wilson commented, his eyes glued to the fire since he wasn’t sure where else to look. “We used to ask to exchange clothing to see how it would look, but of course hers couldn’t fit since I was so much bigger than her then. Still, it was one of those things we’d chat about that would make her laugh, so I went with it anyway.” He laughed a bit awkwardly.

“You two could pass for twins, really.” Maxwell said. “I have a hard time believing she’s only twenty-six.”

“Twenty-six...sometimes I forget there was such a gap between us.” The scientist sighed, and an awkward silence settled over them. Dinner was finished in silence, and shortly afterwards, Wendy softly requested Wickerbottom to read them to sleep. They didn’t have much to make bedrolls with yet, and they had to conserve resources this early on, so they all agreed they’d make do in sleeping on the ground, as much as most of them hated it.

“Of course, dearie.” Wickerbottom sat down with them underneath a tree that was within the light of the fire. She opened one of her books and began to read to them softly. Wilson didn’t pay attention to what it was she was saying, and he wasn’t in much of a mood to focus on such things anyway. The recital of his sister’s story had made his mood plummet at an exponential rate, and the fact that he still didn’t know what had caused them to reset in the first place was slowly driving him mad.

‘Forget the shadows.’ He lamented. ‘I’ll end up destroying myself thanks to this.’ 

He didn’t pay attention to the others finding places on the ground to sleep, whether it was against the science machine or under a tree that was close enough for the fire’s light to reach. He didn’t even notice when Maxwell sat down next to him until he spoke.

“Something’s on your mind.” He said, snapping Wilson out of his train of thought. “Mind telling me just what it could be?”

Wilson sighed and leaned into his love’s side. “Oh, Max. I just don’t understand it. When the base went up in flames...how did that happen? It’s making my brain numb to think about it.”

“Then don’t.” Maxwell offered, earning him a hard glare.

“It’s not that easy, you know.” Wilson replied coldly. “Once something gets into my head, it nags and nags at me until I go mad. You of all people should  _ absolutely _ know this.”

“I’m sorry. I haven’t forgotten that, I just don’t understand how you’re so up in arms over this reset.” Maxwell shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal how it happened, but that it happened at all, and now we have to figure out how to deal with it.”

“I guess you’re right…” Wilson sighed. “Even still, I can’t help but wonder. What did Wigfrid touch that made her scream like that?” He shuddered. “It sounded like it hurt.”

“It did.” The magician replied and stared off in thought. “I wonder. If we were to ask her, would she know what it was?”

“Possibly, but for some reason I doubt it.” Wilson groaned and leaned into his side. “God. I’m so confused.”

“Let’s not focus on this just yet, Wilson.” Maxwell’s arm reassuringly wrapped itself around the other’s shoulder. “Let’s just focus on getting settled in and building a camp for winter. Then, when we’re all freezing our asses off and actually have some time, we can talk more about that. Sound okay to you?”

Wilson nodded, but for some reason, the idea of putting this off didn’t sit too well with him. The whole scenario leading up to his death was just so suspicious. It was almost like there was an outside force that had triggered that explosion. He knew, however, that it couldn’t have had to do with something Willow did. She would never get involved with something like that. He was sure of it. 

Was he really?

‘Yes, I am sure of it.’ He chastised himself for thinking of his sister as being so cold as to do such a thing and sighed. ‘Maxwell’s right. It’s not good of me to think of these things so much. I’ll end up killing myself from madness.’

Rather than let this situation cripple his mind, he simply leaned into Maxwell’s side, his arm wrapped around the magician’s waist. His eyes focused on the fire, and soon, the thoughts of his death were gone from his mind completely. He looked up at Maxwell, his head against the other man’s chest, and felt completely at ease. These intimate moments they shared at night to make up for all the work done during the day always made him feel better.

“Kiss me.” He requested, a little shyly, and the magician smiled.

“You don’t have to ask, you know.” Maxwell cupped the side of his face and pulled them closer together. Wilson’s hands found their way up to his lover’s jacket and clung to it as their lips met. Two frail arms wrapped around his waist, and they held each other closely as they kissed. Wilson tasted the cigar smoke from earlier, and he had to admit, it wasn’t so bad when it was taken in like this. 

“To think I ever could have hated you.” Maxwell mumbled as they pulled apart rather slowly.

“I agree.” Wilson sighed and rested his forehead against Max’s shoulder. “You know, I sometimes wonder about the things that I did to you on the shadow throne. Just what on earth was so bad that Charlie thought it fit to take it from us, lest it affect our interactions?” He shivered. “Just how bad could it have been?”

“Best not to think about it.” Maxwell reminded.

“You’re right.” Wilson sighed distantly. “Still, there are times when it crosses my mind. If only we had a way of knowing such things.”

“Until then, the only thing we need to worry about it settling in and preparing farms for the wintertime.” Maxwell reminded, toying with a lock of Wilson’s hair. The smaller man laughed. 

“You must be quite fond of this, aren’t you?” He asked teasingly.

“To our little nightly meetings, or your hair? Because the answer is yes to both.” Maxwell said fondly. He paused. “It’s getting late out. We should go to bed.”

“One more kiss.” Wilson asked. “Pleeease?”

Maxwell chuckled and they kissed a second time, holding each other just as tightly as before. After they pulled away, they moved the log on which they were sitting into the fire to keep it burning for the rest of the night. They could replace it in the morning, Wilson thought, laying down a few paces from the fire. Maxwell curled up next to him, and the two fell asleep without a care in the world, unaware that someone was still awake and listening.

 

+++

 

Poor Wigfrid just couldn’t seem to catch a break. First, she was taken from her home in Iceland to come to this dimension, which she occasionally referred to as “Hell Island”, doomed to never set foot on a stage or meet a pretty girl her age again. Then, when she finally DOES meet a pretty girl her age (well, she was a tad bit older, but what difference did it make?), she gets whisked away from her within a week to become the one controlling the island, thus making it impossible to ever see her again. Now, just as things were finally starting to fall into place for her, the world reset under circumstances she didn’t understand, and now they had to start all over.

Fan-fucking-tabulous. 

She was contemplating this as she laid down near the science machine, feigning sleep and trying to block out the conversation between her love interest’s brother and his date. Oh, how she envied Wilson and Maxwell with all her being. At this point there wasn’t sure there was anything she wouldn’t do to get her Willow back and hold her the same way those two lovebirds did to each other.

“Kiss me.” She heard Wilson request, and she turned over to hide her tears of jealousy. He sounded so much like her sometimes, though it was likely just her imagination making her hear it that way. She tried not to burst into tears as she brought forth in her mind her faded memories of Willow. She recalled how the woman’s hair fell around her face in messy pigtails the first night she stayed at the base, how they talked and flirted while her brother was off with Maxwell, how she untied her hair the first  night she paid a visit to her tent and how absolutely  _ stunning _ she was. She remembered kissing her jaw and lips and cheeks and neck that night, how they held each other and promised one another that everything was going to be okay, how they ran their fingers through each other's hair as they desperately tried to fulfill their needs for physical contact. She barely remembered Willow’s soft, sweet, gentle laugh and her maternal love for Wendy and Webber that made her heart long to marry her someday. 

She tried to hold in a choked sob and curled up in a ball, trying to repress this longing that hurt her so. This on top of the stress of a reset would surely be what made her die this time around, she thought. It was painful, and she didn’t know how to handle it besides let it simmer within her.

“Oh, Willow... “ She whispered to herself, hoping  somehow that her girlfriend would hear. “I want so badly to see you again.”

She looked up to the shadows, tears in her eyes, hoping that she would manipulate them somehow to give her an answer. Nothing happened. She looked over her shoulder to see Maxwell and Wilson asleep together on the other side of the fire pit and felt hot tears roll down her cheek.

“Why is life so cruel to people like me?” She wondered, furious and devastated. “All I want is Willow. Is that so much to ask?”

That was the last thing on her mind before she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  
  


It hurt to get up the next morning. Wigfrid was stiff all over from having slept on the ground, but she tried to pay her discomfort no mind. There was work to be done around here, and she was not about to risk being seen in a bad place so early on in this world. If her pains got too bad, then she’d ask for a break, but at present it was too early for this shit.

She stood up and stretched herself out. Like always, she was the first one awake. Wilson and Maxwell were still out cold by the now burnt out fire, and everyone else was still where they’d been the night before as well. She yawned and tried to think of something to do this early in the morning and spied an axe someone had left lying about the night before. She picked it up and turned it over a few times in her hand. It had been a while since she’d chopped wood herself, she realized. Might as well try to get back into it now.

The actress made her way over to a patch of birchnut trees and picked one with a nice, thick trunk that would provide a decent amount of wood for them. Swinging her axe into the base, fragments of what had been on her mind began to resurface. Guiltily, she caught herself longing for Willow again and tried to cut off those feelings prematurely.

‘Stop that.’ She chastised herself silently. ‘Just don’t think about it. You’ve got a small village’s worth of people to help look after, Wigfrid. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, so stop indulging yourself in such ridiculous wants!’

Even so, she couldn’t fully forget as she whacked at the tree with the force of a giant. The trunk split quickly and the tree toppled over like a domino. The actress got on her knees and began to divide the trunk into separate logs to be used later.

The sound of her chopping wood must have woken some of the others up, because Wigfrid stopped swinging her axe and peeked out of the sea of trees to see Woodie and Maxwell were already awake. Woodie spotted her and waved. Wigfrid responded with a wave of her own. He grabbed Lucy and made his way over to her.

‘Thank god.’ The actress thought to herself. ‘Maybe this guy can help ease my nerves.’ Woodie wasn’t a bad guy. He was friendly and outgoing, though quite reckless. She knew he and Wes had a good, healthy relationship, and slightly envied them as well. She also knew that Wes worried quite a bit about his lumberjack boyfriend because of how easy it was for him to turn into a werebeaver when he was out gathering wood. It was distressing to watch him become so worried, but she definitely understood where he was coming from. It only made her want to become closer friends with him so that she could look after him as well.

“Mornin’, Wigfrid.” Woodie smiled at Wigfrid and she smiled back. “Sleep well?”

“About as well as one could sleep on cold, hard ground.” She shrugged. “I’m feeling a bit stiff, but it’s not a big deal.”

“So am I.” Woodie shrugged. “Let’s gather a bit of wood while we’re out here, eh? A bit of exercise should wake us both up.” He took the tree next to her and started swinging. Wigfrid nodded and continued to hack away at her tree as well. Within a few minutes, Wigfrid was on her second tree and Woodie was on his third.

“Go easy, Woodie.” Wigfrid cautioned. “None of us want you to turn this early.”

“A’ight, mom.” Woodie teased. “You and Woodie both worry so much. How do you live like that?”

Wigfrid laughed bitterly. “No idea, dude.”

Woodie stopped hacking away at the tree suddenly. “This reset’s really messing  with me.” He laughed. “I keep thinking that after this we’re going to have to walk back to the base, but that doesn’t exist anymore.”

The actress sighed. “Yeah, I know how you feel. It’s gonna take a while to adjust to not having as much as we did in the last world.”

“Best not to dwell on it.” The lumberjack shrugged and continued to hack away at the tree. “That’ll only make things worse.”

“Mmhm.” Wigfrid nodded, trying not to let her mind wander in the silence that followed. “Hey Woodie, quick question.” 

“Yeah?” The lumberjack replied, dividing a tree into three logs.

“Where did you go off to earlier to gather supplies? I’m a bit curious about what the land around here looks like.” The actress picked a few stray birchnuts off the ground and shoved them in her inventory.

Woodie thought for a moment. “There’s a pine forest past the savannah and to the east of here. That’s where I was.”

“Hm.” Wigfrid nodded. “Find anything interesting there?”

“Nope. There was a sinkhole around there, though, but I don’t think we’re gonna have much of a use for it.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Why?”

“Just curious.” His friend replied, and in the moment, it was true. “How much wood do you have?”

Woodie looked at the stumps left on the ground. “Twelve logs.” He affirmed. “And you?”

“Nine.” Wigfrid replied. “I think we should head back now. If we chop any more logs, I’m afraid you might turn.”

“A’ight.” Woodie shrugged indifferently, resting Lucy on his shoulder. “Bout time we head back, anyway. The others should be up by now.”

Wigfrid nodded and the two made their way back to the camp. By now, everyone was awake, and Wilson reported that Wolfgang and Wes had gone off to chart out more land.

“I see.” Wigfrid handed Woodie the logs she had on her and turned to Wilson. “You wouldn’t have any objections to me going out, do you?”

“Absolutely not.” The scientist shook his head. “In fact, I’ll be heading out in a few minutes myself. We should go together. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

“Good idea. Woodie, make a chest or something from that, will you?”

“Aye-aye, captain.” The lumberjack saluted, and they laughed. 

“Well, in that case, I’ll make a few tools for us and we’ll be on our way.” Wilson gathered some flint and sticks off the ground and fashioned some of them into two shovels and two pickaxes. “Woodie, what direction did you say that forest was in again? I want to check out what’s over there.”

The lumberjack pointed to the left of them. “That way, and once you pass the savannah you’ll see it a bit to the right. You better be safe out there.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” Wigfrid reassured him, taking the shovel and pickaxe from Wilson and placing it beside her axe in the inventory. “We’ll be back by dusk, right, Wilson?”

The scientist nodded. “Keep the kids out of trouble. Try to make more traps to catch rabbits in or something. Just  stay out of trouble, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Y’all nag me too much, y’know that?” Woodie huffed, crossing his arms, drawing another laugh from the actress and scientist.

“See ya, Woodie.” Wigfrid waved, and she and Wilson started off for the forest.

“So why exactly did you want to go this way, again?” Wilson asked, stepping over a rabbit hole. Wigfrid shrugged. 

“Like I said, I just wanna see what’s out here.” She replied, a bit indifferent. “Woodie said he found a sinkhole and I wanna see it for myself.”

“Why are you suddenly so interested in si--” Wilson cut himself off as he remembered the survivors’ little “outing” in the last world two winters before the reset. “Wigfrid, you better not be thinking of what I think you are.”

“I’m not, but don’t give me any ideas.” The redhead laughed a bit uneasily. “Seriously, why don’t you believe me? Let’s just gather some wood and stuff while we’re out exploring, head back, and see how the others were doing. The first hound attack should be within the next week or so, right? We should get the stuff for armor for some of us since those bastards are always a tough time to take down.”

Wilson nodded, though he wasn’t fully convinced. “Yeah. Hey, can I ask you a question?” He asked as they approached the forest. 

“Shoot.” Wigfrid pulled her axe from her inventory.

“Do you still love my sister?” He asked softly. His companion choked on her own spit.

“Well, way to just throw that out there.”

“You said I could ask, so I did. Now answer me, please.”

Wigfrid sighed. “You want the blunt, honest answer or the one I’d just tell anyone?”

“What do you think?” Wilson grabbed his own axe as well as the two traveled deeper into the woods.

“Yes. I do.” The redhead replied, a bit softly. “I try not to let myself dwell on the thought of her too much, but of course it’s no use. This probably isn’t the kind of thing that I should be telling her brother, but she’s just so lovely that I can’t stop myself from thinking of her once  I  start.”

The scientist was quiet for a moment. “If it makes you feel any better, I still haven’t quite gotten used to her absence, either. It’s like she wasn’t even here at all, and yet…” He trailed off, a distant look in his eyes. “Thank you.” He said after a while. “Thank you for giving her another reason to smile.”

Wigfrid stopped walking and was quiet as these words sunk in.  _ Thank you for giving her another reason to smile. _ Hot tears forced their way into her eyes, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. Wilson stopped too, watching her carefully. He could see she was on the verge of a breakdown and wondered if he’d gone too far this time.

“You know,” She choked out, wiping her eyes on her wrist. “You’re so much like her sometimes. You’ve got the same hair, same eyes, same complexion...dammit, you’ve got the same voice sometimes, and it really messes with me!” She shuddered, a sob wracking her body, and Wilson comfortingly placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

“I’m not too sure what to say about that.” The man replied quietly, growing more solemn as well. He sighed. “Loss is a real bitch, isn’t it.”

Wigfrid nodded and leaned into his side. “I wish I wasn’t such a baby.” She confessed. “That happened so long ago, and yet…”

“Oh, don’t be that way.” Wilson nudged her. “You’ve every right to be upset.”

“Doesn’t  _ seem  _ like it. I feel so stupid every time I’m upset about her.” Wigfrid sighed and shuddered again. “And I’ll admit, I’m more than a little jealous of you, you know.”

Wilson scoffed. “How’s that?”

“You’ve actually got someone to love now.” Guilt hit the scientist like a brick when he realized she meant Maxwell and immediately felt bad for laughing. “What I wouldn’t give for a romantic partner.”

“Oh.” He sighed. “Again, not too sure what to say to that.”

“Then don’t say anything at all.” Wigfrid huffed. “Let’s get some exploring done, alright? That’s what we’re here for anyways.”

Wilson nodded in agreement and turned the axe over in his hands as the two began to walk again. “Hopefully we won’t run into a treeguard.”

“It’s too early for that. What I’m worried about is getting lost out here.” The redhead’s tears had dried by now and she pulled some twigs off a sapling. “That’s probably not gonna be an issue, though.” 

“We won’t go out that far.” Wilson shrugged. They noticed a cleared space between some of the trees and followed it, and shortly after they found the sinkhole. A large rock covered it, and Wilson figured it would take the whole duration of one pickaxe to take it down. Fortunately, none of them planned to go spelunking any time soon. 

“Here’s that hole you were talking about.” He said, looking up at it. Wigfrid whistled.

“Yup.” She said and inspected the rock for a moment.

“Remind me again why you wanted to come out here.” The scientist asked, spotting a particularly large tree and adjusting his grip on his axe.

“Woodie just mentioned it offhandedly to me and I wanted to see it.” Wigfrid shrugged. “No biggie. That, and there’s usually some more rocks and stuff around these things. Wanna get working on some of those trees now?” She asked, adjusting her helmet.

“Yeah.” 

Thus the two chopped trees, shoveled stumps, and gathered any other resources they could find until it was moments from dusk. Seeing that they were late, they ran back to the camp, and fortunately for them everyone was still in one piece. A few more chests had been constructed, as well as an alchemy engine.

“Welcome back.” Wendy greeted them. She sat by the firepit, fashioning a few garlands from a pile of flowers placed at her side. She didn’t raise her eyes from her work. 

“Hey, Wendy. What did everyone do today?” The scientist asked, placing the wood and pinecones he and Wigfrid gathered in a chest. 

“We found a spider’s nest and placed traps around it to catch some of them.” The girl replied, still not looking up. “We also picked flowers.”

“I can see that.” Wilson sat down on one of the logs parallel to her. “You’re doing a great job.”

“Thanks.” Wendy blushed. Wigfrid sat down to the right of her, resting an elbow on her knee in thought. 

“Hey! Welcome back.” Wilson looked up to see Wickerbottom standing some distance away from them, Webber clinging to her waist like the child he was. Wolfgang was with them. Maxwell was nowhere to be seen. “Oh, don’t worry. Maxwell’s still out getting some food from the traps. Hopefully he’ll be back soon.” There was a hint of worry in the old woman’s voice, but the scientist figured it was probably no big deal. 

“Speaking of which, how much do we have already and where are we keeping it?” The scientist stood up. 

“Enough, and hopefully a bit more if Maxwell comes back on time, and I don’t doubt he will.” The old woman sat down next to Wilson. “Did you all find anything?”

“Flint, rocks, sticks, and grass. The usual.” The scientist shrugged. “Basically the standard thing you’d expect to find out there.”

“I see.” Wickerbottom nodded. 

“We find badlands soon, yes?” Wolfgang said, sitting on the last log. “Need gears.”

He had a point. They would need gears to build iceboxes, and since they didn’t know if the seasons would be different in this world thanks to Willow or not, they had to act fast. 

“Hopefully. Let’s at least get some crockpots together first, though, okay?” Wilson asked. “We’ll also need farms. Did anyone go into the savannah besides us today?”

Wendy raised her hand. “We passed it and I spotted a herd of six beefalo. I think that if we gather enough rocks and such over the next few days, we’ll have enough to build at least five decent farms, maybe more if we’re diligent enough.”

“Okay. And we have how much of what?”

The survivors counted out their items and made plans for how to use them, but Wigfrid didn’t pay any attention. She stared blankly off into space, thinking intently about the forest and its sinkhole. She wondered just how long it would take for her to get there again if she ran. A plan was forming in her head, and the actress didn’t take into consideration the fact that Wilson said she shouldn’t do anything stupid. She didn’t hear Maxwell return to the camp, or hear them count out what he’d brought back. Immersed in her own mind, she was also oblivious to the fact that someone decked her in the shoulder until she hit the ground.

“Hey! Who hit me?” She asked, dazed.

“I did. Sorry, did I hurt you?” Woodie asked sheepishly. “You were just so spaced out, no one could talk to you.”

“Oh yeah.” Wigfrid sat up. “I’m fine. Uh...what are we doing?”

“Making dinner.” Maxwell replied. “You might want to move.”

“Sure.” The redhead got up and awkwardly moved over to the alchemy engine. Maxwell sat down in her place, eyeing her suspiciously. Woodie pulled her aside. 

“Wigfrid, you don’t look so good.” He muttered, pulling her behind the workspace. “Are you ill?”

“No, I’m tired. That’s all.” She sighed. 

Woodie nodded. “Ohh.” He pat her on the back. “If you want me to keep you in check, just say the word.”

The actress shrugged. “I’m good. Thanks for decking me back there, actually.”

“Yeah, no problem. Were you thinking about...you know…”

“No, not this time, actually.” Wigfrid laughed. 

Woodie raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Let’s get back with the others, then. I’m sure you and Wilson had an eventful day?” He asked as they walked out from behind the machines. 

“Oh yeah. That was a good spot to head to.” She noticed Wes was eyeing her suspiciously. “Thanks for recommending it to me.”

“No problem.” Woodie shrugged, and thus the night went on. Small talk was made, sleeping spots were assigned until further notice, and they all settled down when the darkness set in. 

  
  


Wilson lay curled up next to Maxwell beside the slowly dying campfire, his eyes fixed on the flames that danced in front of him. Although he was tired, he just couldn’t manage to fall asleep in the arms of the man behind him. His mind felt fuzzy like it was full of cotton and his eyelids were heavy, but sleep refused to take him. He groggily looked out at the campfire and had an eerily strong feeling like he’d seen it somewhere before. It was kind of a ridiculous thought for him to have, but it was true. A strange sensation that he had seen a dying fire dance this exact same way was tugging at him in his chest, but he couldn’t recall where it was from.

‘Ha. I can’t believe I’m so tired I’ve reached the point of such delusion.’ He yawned and snuggled up closer to Maxwell for warmth. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the ground. Shortly after, he fell asleep, a gentle breeze rustling his thick black hair. The fire burned out shortly afterwards, encasing the survivors in darkness until morning.


	3. The Instruments of Darkness Tell Us Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow and Charlie have a little chat, and Charlie lets on a little bit about what she knows about the survivors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi  
> i'm not dead yet  
> school & skating & life as a whole are hard  
> currently trying to write more content for ds as we speak  
> love you guys  
> sorry for the short chapter but it's been in my drive for a while & it's better than nothing

Willow was, once again, bored half out of her mind.  
“While this is intriguing…” She muttered to herself as she watched the shadows’ display of her friends going about their daily lives. “If only I had some other source of entertainment.”  
“Did you call for me, dear Willow?” The voice appeared from behind her in an instant and the queen sighed. Be careful what you ask for. Willow was tired of hearing that voice, but it wasn’t like she had anyone else to talk to.   
“Charlie, just how did you manage to tolerate sitting here for so long?” Willow groaned. “I hate it!”  
The darkness gasped playfully. “Ooh! The shadows don’t like it when you say things like that, you know.”  
“I literally couldn’t give a fraction of a shit at this point.” Willow’s normally calm and suave temperament was gone for the moment. Her boredom had eaten it away.  
“Ohoho. Well,” Charlie placed a hand on the queen’s shoulder. “I see someone’s feisty.”  
“You’re so lucky I’m bound to this chair, Charlie, or else I’d tear you limb for limb right now.”  
“With what strength? You’re completely unarmed and I’m nearly a foot taller than you in this form. To fight me is to sign the ‘x’ on your death wish.” Charlie smirked.  
“Let’s not forget who’s the reason you’re off the throne in the first place.” Willow retorted. “A very simple weapon was enough to take you down. Before you, I’d never killed a man in my life, but I’m now certain I’d do it a thousand times over to rid myself of you.”  
“A thousand times over, you say.” There was a pause, followed by Charlie’s deep, sinister laugh. Willow shivered. She hated that sound and had a feeling that using such hyperbole probably wasn’t the smartest idea.  
“Well, if you’re so sure, dear Willow.” There was a pat on the head of the younger woman, earning yet another flinch from her. “And if you’re oh-so-bored on this throne...you could always have some fun with your little friends.”  
“No.” Willow knew immediately what was implied by this. “I refuse to conjure up any wicked creation that would stand in the way of their survival!”  
“Whaaat? Oh, Willow, come on. You can’t possibly be pulling this card even after all the time you spent up here. Your brother barely lasted this long when it was his turn before wreaking havoc on that world.” Charlie jeered.  
Willow flinched. “Excuse me? What are you talking about?”  
“Oh, I’m sorry, have you lost your hearing? I said your brother. B-r-o-t-h-e-r. Wilson Percival Higgsbury, the most dysfunctional grown man I’ve ever laid eyes on. He can’t even stand in the rain for a few moments without itching at his skin like a dog!” Charlie burst out laughing again and Willow gritted her teeth so hard it was a wonder they didn’t crack.  
“You may insult me all you like, but don’t you ever talk about my brother like that.” Somehow, there was a part of Willow repressing the idea that her brother had suffered for all the years he’d lived here before her. She didn’t know why. It was a very reasonable thought to think, and yet every time she’d looked out on that small community, going about their life as if it was normal, there was always an accompanying feeling that in the end, there was no reason to worry for them. There was no danger in that world she’d only barely dipped her toes in, and if there was, they all had the supplies and experience to get it under control. She admired how strong her brother had become. “What are you talking about, anyway? What has Wilson to do with any of this?”  
Charlie cocked her head, almost genuinely surprised. “Oh, he never told you? He served a bit of time on this very throne, just as you do now.”  
Willow’s stomach wrenched and she gripped the armrests of the throne so hard her knuckles paled. “Please tell me you’re kidding.” She thought she’d be sick at any moment.  
Charlie’s cold hand touched her shoulder again. “I’d say I wish I was, but that would be lying.” She sighed, almost dreamily. “He was so handsome and young looking when I liberated him from it--”  
“Excuse me, you did what?!” Willow snapped, horrified. “What did you do to my brother?!” Her fists slammed against the hard surface of the chair’s armrests and the shadow woman let out a tsk tsk.  
“Willow, you’re so easy to aggravate. You’re in your mid-twenties, yes? I’d imagine someone that age would be a little wiser about who they’d pick fights with.”  
The other woman’s jaw stiffened, so hard in fact that it began to ache shortly after, but Willow was hardly aware of this. The nerve this woman had to insult her!  
“What do you want from me?!” She asked, voice strained. “I haven’t done a thing to bother you!”  
Charlie was silent for a moment. “Do you want to know what he did?”  
“What?” Willow looked over at her. For once, the sly look on her face was replaced with something more serious.  
“I said, do you want to know what your brother did while he was on the shadow throne?” Charlie folded her hands. “He doesn’t remember it. Maxwell doesn’t, either, and I get the feeling they want to know. All they can remember is they’ve hated each other for quite a bit of time. It’s quite a contrast from how they are now.”  
Willow nodded in agreement. “That’s strange to think about.”  
“For you, maybe.” Charlie’s smile briefly returned. “I originally came with Maxwell to this place, you know, back in...when was it? I’d say around ‘06.”  
“1906?” Willow’s jaw dropped. “You’ve been here that long?”  
“Yes. Quite sad if I do say so myself, but in a way I almost admire the days where it was just Maxy and I. I will say this, though, the day Wilson came here alone was probably the most interesting day of our lives.” She chuckled lightheartedly.  
Willow’s stomach felt uneasy. “In what way?”  
“Well,” Charlie shrugged, “In our defense, he was our first source of human interaction in quite some time, so we may have been a biiit sadistic towards him.” The girl in the chair felt like she would be sick at the thought. “But you know something, my dear Willow, your brother seemed hellbent not on getting out of here but on exploring this world as much as he could.”  
“Wait, stop.” Willow held up a hand, her other hand gripping the armrest of the throne with a bone-shattering grip. “You mean to tell me there’s a way out of this?!”  
“There was, once upon a time. Maxie made a machine and had the parts strewn about the world every time a new one was generated. I believe your brother actually removed it when he was on here and just never remembered to put it back in. Wilson would find at least one or two parts, but the one time he was able to find them all and assemble the machine, he did something rather strange.”  
“And that was what?” Willow asked, her head starting to hurt. This was so much for her to take in at once.  
“He assembled it in record time, as if he’d built it in his head beforehand. It was quite a sight to see, and even Maxwell was impressed.” Charlie’s facial expression was solemn again. “But after he built it...he just sort of stared at it, then turned around and looked out at the world like he didn’t want to go. And he didn’t.” Charlie sighed. “It baffles me.”  
“Yeah. Me too.” Willow felt her blood beginning to boil. “He had a chance to come back and find me, and save all of those people at the camp...and he didn’t.”  
Charlie seemed surprised at this reaction for a moment, and then her smile returned. “Yes...when I think about it, you’re right.” She chuckled and patted her head. “That’s exactly what happened. Such a smart girl.”  
Willow sighed and leaned back in the chair. Her knuckles were white from how hard her grasp was on the armrests by this point. “Charlie, I need some time to process all this. Do you mind?”  
“Of course not, dear.” The shadow woman replied with the same sly smile she had before. “Just know that if you need me, I’m just a call away~”  
Willow sighed again, rubbing her temples as the other disappeared into the darkness. She hated being called “dear” by that woman, but she hated how she felt now even more. She pulled up a view of the survivors’ camp from the shadows, and her brother was the first person her troubled eyes fell upon.


End file.
